31 Reads of Terror: 'The Liar's Daughter' by Claire Allan

A stunning cover can whisper secrets even before the first page is turned. The book that caught my eye was The Liar's Daughter by Claire Allan, a title I stumbled upon while rummaging through a box of worn-out paperbacks at a thrift store, half-buried beneath a mountain of forgotten clothing. The cover boasted the haunting image of a woman in a yellow dress, eerily poised amongst twisted trees, enveloped in shadows that only added to her unsettling charm. The tagline, "Family can hide the darkest secrets," teased my curiosity. What secrets lay hidden in this tale? How dark could they be? The answers were lurking just beyond the page.

Now, let's unearth the plot: When Joe McKee passes away, the tight-knit community of Derry is thrust into mourning, drowning in sorrow for the man whose laughter once echoed through their lives. Friends and family are left grappling with the gaping void left by his battle with cancer. But among the mourners, two stand apart—Joe’s daughter, Ciara, and her stepdaughter, Heidi—because they alone knew the real Joe. He was no protector; he was a man whose sins ran deep, veiled by the façade of a loving father.

The mourners gather for the traditional Irish wake, the air thickens with expectations—and the police arrive,drawn by the smell of something rotten in the state of Joe’s death. It quickly unfolds that this wasn’t a natural parting; the tangled web of lies Joe spun refused to be buried with him. The truth, as it unfurls, not only implicates but casts his daughters in the most chilling of lights, giving them a motive for murder that’s as dark as the secrets still clinging to the family.

As I trudged through The Liar's Daughter, my patience was tested like a weak cord on the verge of snapping. The title may have promised intrigue, but dread seeped in, not from the macabre setting, but from the juggling act of dual timelines and alternating narratives. Don’t misunderstand me; when done well, shifting perspectives can be a delightful twist. But here, with only three distinct voices pulling me between moments, it felt like a clumsy dance—one that left me baffled rather than enchanted. The characters themselves? Vapid sketches lacking depth, mere shadows on the page that failed to stir any emotion within me.

The narrative was painfully familiar—a cliché murder mystery with the same tired spins that have been told, retold, and recycled like old news. Although the author displayed a spark of talent in her prose, the story itself felt like a flat tire, no air, and no momentum to carry the reader forward. In the end, The Liar's Daughter came off as a lackluster effort, a meandering path shrouded in mediocrity. I wouldn't necessarily wave this book around as a recommendation, but then again, every reader’s tastes are as varied as the secrets hidden in a family’s closet. If the blurb piqued your interest, do take a chance—who knows, you might find a glimmer of delight in the dark where I saw only shadows. ╌★½✰✰✰

〜B.J. Burgess